


just caught in the undertow

by thesupplanter



Series: I'm finding out what makes me wanna live [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Asexual Character, Gen, Greyspectrum, No Slash, Other, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesupplanter/pseuds/thesupplanter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Day- fifteen."</p><p>Bruce walks down the stairs towards the labs, a hand on the banister while the other continues to type a message on his phone to Tony. Day fifteen of seeing neither head nor tail of the genius had him considerably worried- at least as worried as day five, and ten, though probably less worried than he would be at day twenty, if they got that far.</p><p>He really hopes they won't.</p><p>' Coming down to check the door again. Sign you're not dead would be nice. '</p><p> </p><p>Or, Tony's changed a lot since the events of IM3- and not all of it is 'well received'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just caught in the undertow

**Author's Note:**

> This is a greyspectrum alternate universe. Greyspectrum describes part of the sexual/romantic spectrum that includes asexual/aromantic, demisexual/demiromantic, and greysexual/greyromantic. In this series (yes, it is a series), we'll be exploring alternatives to romance-centric plots, since they will be mostly absent, if not completely.
> 
> Basically if you are here for shipping/smut, you're in the wrong place.

"Day- fifteen."

Bruce walks down the stairs towards the labs, a hand on the banister while the other continues to type a message on his phone to Tony. Day fifteen of seeing neither head nor tail of the genius had him considerably worried- at least as worried as day five, and ten, though probably less worried than he would be at day twenty, if they got that far.

He really hopes they won't.

' Coming down to check the door again. Sign you're not dead would be nice. '

JARVIS has assured him that Tony's vital signs are constant, if elevated at times. He's also apologized for not allowing Bruce into the lab, but Bruce understands that Tony is having a- something. He still doesn't know what happened, but he's got some suspicions. Rather than question the suspected involved party, he's waiting Tony out.

He'd talk, eventually.

Bruce is a little surprised when, instead of the 'no entry' notice on the lockpad that has been pretty consistant for the last two weeks, there's instead a overly-complicated theorem waiting for a solution- he assumes it was Tony's way of assuring himself that Bruce would be the one to come in. Totally unnecessary, but it's Tony, that's part of being his friend.

Canceling out most of the variables, Bruce is able to clear the quiz and gain access, looking around to find Tony. Most of the flat surfaces he sees are covered in scraps of metal and wire and one or two half-finished projects- prototypes or models or just- fuckery. Things that Tony does to keep his mind moving when he needs a distraction.

There's a crash behind him, and Bruce turns again to find Tony trying to shuck his way out of something that looks like flexline that probably belongs somewhere decidedly not Tony's leg. After struggling for a moment, Tony looks over as if to chastise Dum-E for it but sees Bruce instead. It manages to startle him, and he doesn't look sure if he's glad Bruce is there or angry.

In the end, he decides to ask, "Pliers?"

Bruce grabs a pair off one of the desks between where he's standing and Tony, crouching down to start cutting Tony free. He's still not sure what exactly is going on, but he's close enough to see he's all in one piece, if a little shakey. Once he's got his leg back, Tony kinda just stares at Bruce like he's still not sure what to do with him there.

His eyes are red, not quite bloodshot but just short of it, like he's barely slept since coming down here. His normally at least reasonably neat appearance is haphazard, scruffy and splattered with grease and other kinds of dirt that Bruce would be more worried about any other day.

Right now he's mostly worried about the fact that Tony is walking away, already half-into an explanation about why he'd used that particular equation on the lock for Bruce. He goes deeper into the lab and, following him, Bruce can see how erratic his 'work' has become. At first he could see purpose in Tony's designs but here- here they're just- things stuck together.

Makes him think about after the battle in New York, when Tony had done nothing for months but tinker and build and- but he'd been fine since New Years, he was fine when they all moved in a couple of months ago so-

"What happened?"

Better to just be direct, Bruce tells himself.

Tony sputters a couple more words on his train of thought before giving up. He pushes over one of the structures on the desk, as if it was the one hiding something from Bruce. After a moment he turns away from Bruce again, only to turn back, holding his arms out to either side.

"She left me."

The way he says it, like it's a joke- Bruce just stares at him, trying to understand the punch line.

"She left- wait, Pepper? Pepper left you?"

With something like a shrug Tony says, "Yeah, I mean, are you really surprised- I mean I was surprised, sure, but I'm always surprised when people leave which- really, you would think I would have learned by now but she was just- but I can't really complain, I mean she-"

"Tony."

It's an effective rebuttal. Tony looks back at his desk, at the one next to it. Back at Bruce.

"I was just so tired. I hadn't slept in like three months and I could finally sleep and I had exactly no energy to fuck around and I guess- but she liked that part and then she got tired of waiting and got tired of sacrificing and I just- I-"

And that's when everything snaps.

Tony shoves one piece of metal- then another, when that didn't satisfy him. When that fails to soothe him, the whole desk suffers, each piece and scrap sent flying and clattering on the floor. When he's cleared the first table, he goes onto a second, and Bruce lets him. He, of all people, knows that need, needing to destroy- something, anything.

It's not until he catches a flash of red that Bruce moves- Tony lets out a hiss of pain as something manages to snag his skin and draw a long, though likely shallow, gash on his forearm. He adds a colorful string of curses as he presses his arm to his chest, rapidly rising and falling in distress. Bruce stops short of where Tony has stopped, waiting to see what he'll do.

Tony stares at him, flexing his hand when he glances down to the injury. He's shaking, still, more now than before, and finally he just looks at Bruce and turns, walking until his back hits a wall and he can slide to the floor, struggling to keep his breath steady.

Bruce waits a moment longer, trying to gauge whether it's worth the risk to approach Tony before deciding he needs that damn arm patched up. He grabs a first aid kit, moving slowly to crouch next to Tony, still watching him- the other guy is nervous, not angry but concerned, trying to understand why Bruce is so cautious and why Tony is so- volatile.

"Here."

Taking hold of Tony's wrist, Bruce pulls his arm out where he can see; when the genius allows it, he opens a few alcohol wipes to clean it, glad that it's not as deep as it could have been. There might be a need for butterfly closures at one point, but the rest should be fine. He closes it up, adds a few gauze pads before starting to wrap it up- there'll be time for more precise care later.

He's felt Tony's eyes on his hands the whole time, could practically hear his mind humming and buzzing and trying to catch up with- whatever has crept into his mind. As Bruce finishes his task, Tony drops his head to Bruce's shoulder. It startles Bruce enough to tense, but he doesn't pull away, doesn't ask.

Silence passes until Tony speaks, his voice crackling under the weight of his question.

"The fuck is _wrong_ with me, Bruce? How did I fuck this up so bad?"

With a small sigh, Bruce settles on the floor next to him, pressing his legs against Tony's.

"Tony- there are- a lot of things wrong with you. You're full of yourself, you have an obsessive aversion to Apple technology- to say nothing of you locking yourself in your lab for two weeks without letting anyone in."

That earns him a sound that might be a laugh.

"I just- I'm tired. I was so tired and I just- I couldn't do it. I can't do it."

Bruce isn't completely sure he knows what Tony's talking about, but he's got some ideas. But later, he can ask about it later. For now, he just keeps close, letting Tony lean on him.

Tony's stopped shaking, mostly, save for his hands. His mind is finally slowing down, for the first time in weeks, and he can finally think and he needs to say this while he can think, but all he really wants to do is sleep. And Bruce is right there and steady and that-

"You're tired." Bruce's voice is soft, a warm baritone sound. "You need to rest, Tony."

That just- sounds perfect. "Just- don't move, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I've got you."


End file.
